The Heart Underneath
by lonemirage14
Summary: John Shelby was five years old when Martha Connolly moved in with her Aunt Celia down the block, and his life changed forever. **Rated T to begin with, may be raised to M for later chapters**
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I've been fascinated by John Shelby since Peaky Blinders started, clearly he married early and seemed to be in love with his first wife, Martha. I've always wondered what their relationship was like, and so this how I imagine it. Also, I don't think Mrs. Shelby's name has ever been mentioned in the show, but if it has and someone remembers it, please let me know! I like to keep things fairly accurate. **

* * *

John Shelby was five when Martha Connolly moved in with her Aunt Celia down the block.

"You lot be extra nice to her," his mum, Peggy, had told them at supper that evening. "Her ma has just passed and she's only a wee one, Ada's age. She'll be coming here on the days Celia works, I expect you all to look out for her like she's one of ours, you hear me?"

They had all nodded silently and returned to eating. _Just what we need, another girl,_ John had thought to himself, knowing full well that Ada was a terrible playmate with her dolls and ribbons and wanting to play house.

A few mornings later, he made his way down the stairs, Ada close behind him, and stopped short on the last step. A tiny blonde girl sat in his usual chair, propped on her knees, looking hungrily at the pot of porridge his mum was stirring on the stove. She was small, even smaller than Ada, and she looked up at him with big green eyes. Looking back, that was the moment she had him wrapped around her finger, though he didn't know yet.

"Oh good, you two are up. Martha, this is John and Ada. John is five and Ada is four, like you. Everyone sit, porridge is ready."

John sat across from Martha, wondering vaguely why he wasn't mad that she was in his seat, and Ada sat to her right, chattering about the new doll she had gotten last week. Peggy passed around bowls of porridge and put a jar of honey in the middle of the table. John dipped a spoon in and drizzled it over his porridge, always intrigued by how slow the honey would drip down. He looked up to see Martha staring at him.

"Want some?" He asked, pushing the jar closer to her.

"Honey on porridge?" She questioned, her small voice light and pretty.

"You've never had honey on porridge?" He asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

She shook her head, embarrassed, and he scooted off his chair and came around to her side of the table.

"Here, I'll put some on for you, just a bit, see if you like it."

He caught another spoonful of honey and slowly drizzled it over her bowl. He watched the honey, and she watched him, seemingly fascinated by it all. Peggy stood by the stove, her hand over her mouth, hiding a huge smile.

John put the spoon back on the dish near the honey jar and gestured for Martha to try it. She took a small spoonful and her eyes lit up at the sweet taste. She quickly ate another spoonful and he laughed, pleased that she liked it. He pulled his dish across the table and sat in the chair next to her. From then on, whenever Martha was there for a meal, she sat in his chair, and he sat to her left.

They spent the day tagging along with Peggy as she ran her usual errands, picking up supplies for supper that evening and dropping off some clothing items she had repaired for a neighbor. John held each girl by the hand, taking his job of protecting the girls seriously. Ada had run off the year before at the market, and he had been tasked by Tommy to watch her whenever they were away from their block. Martha seemed content to follow him around and her little hand felt perfectly matched for his big five year old hand. Ada, true to most days, was dragging him this way and that, wanting to see and touch everything.

They waited to the side at the grocer's while Peggy purchased some more embroidery thread and other notions. The grocer's wife, Mrs. Averill, always gave John and Ada a treat when they came in, and he hoped she would see them in the crowd.

"John Shelby! You've got a new little friend there, don't you?" Mrs. Averill said, her voice booming over the din.

"Yes, m'am. This is Martha, moved in down the street and I'm supposed to watch her and Ada while we are out." He replied importantly, standing as tall as he could. Ada giggled but Martha just smiled up at him in awe.

"Well then, let's get you all some candy. Make sure to share fairly now. Here you go." Mrs. Averill replied, after filling a small bag with penny candy from the jars on the counter.

John led the girls to the bench outside and sat between them, holding the bag. Ada had a habit of putting her sticky hands in and John wanted the candy to stay nice for Martha. He doled out a piece each to start with, and watched as Martha's face lit up.

"Never had candy either?" He asked, wondering where this girl had lived.

She shook her head and laughed as he handed her and Ada another piece before carefully putting the bag in his pocket. He'd make it last all day, just to see Martha that happy.

"Your John seems smitten with that little one, Mrs. Shelby. I don't think I've ever seen anything so adorable." Mrs. Averill commented, watching from the window.

"And she for him, Mrs. Averill. He put honey on her porridge this morning and that was all it took. Terrible, of course, about Celia's sister, but better for the girl to be out of that workhouse and in a proper home." Peggy replied, watching for another moment before exiting the store.

That night at supper, both Tommy and Arthur had to change seats at the table, and they quietly gave each other a look before sitting down. Martha seemed to charm everyone by the end of the meal. It was nearing dark and time for Martha to go home, a task that Peggy gave over to Tommy, much to John's dismay.

"Its just down the block, Tommy, I'll walk her." He argued, as Tommy picked up Martha and headed for the front door.

"You think you're man enough to walk a lady home?" Tommy asked, tickling Martha, who laughed in his arms and then hugged him tightly. His heart broke a little for the poor girl, and he held her close, feeling protective of her, like he would his own kin.

"I am, Tom. I watched her and Ada all day and nothing happened. Did it, Martha?"

Martha looked down and John and shook her head no.

"Do you want John to walk you home then, little one?" Tommy asked her, laughing when she nodded her head yes.

"Alright then. I'll watch from the door and you go there and straight back, John. It is your job to get her home safe." Tommy said seriously, as he put Martha down, sensing this was important to John.

John reached out for Martha's hand and led her slowly down the street, pointing to different doors along the way and telling her who lived where. It seemed meant to be, in Tommy's eyes, and he watched as John knocked on Martha's front door.

Celia opened the front door and smiled down at the two.

"Hello, John, thanks for bringing Martha home. Did you have a good day?" She asked.

"Oh yes, Aunt Celia. We went to the shops, and we got candy, and we had porridge with honey!" Martha stated excitedly and Celia laughed.

"Well that sounds like a grand day then. Say goodnight to John, you'll see him tomorrow. Its bedtime now."

"Goodnight, Johnny." Martha said, turning to hug John.

"My name is John." He said, feeling like an idiot.

"I'm calling you Johnny." Martha said, grinning at him and he couldn't help but grin back as she threw her little arms around his neck and hugged him.

John waved goodbye as Celia closed the door, and walked quickly back to the house, embarrassed that Tommy had probably seen the whole thing.

"Only Martha can call me Johnny." He huffed as he entered the house, and Tommy laughed quietly to himself. His little brother was in big trouble with this one.

Later that night, as he lay on his cot, listening to Ada prattle on sleepily to her doll, John thought that being called Johnny wasn't all that bad. At least not by Martha anyway. He was already figuring out how many days a week they could go to the grocer's to get candy from Mrs. Averill before she would get mad. He wanted to make Martha laugh like that again.


	2. Chapter 2

Shortly after John turned six, Peggy told him he would start attending school when the new term began in a few days. John was horrified at the prospect of spending endless days at a desk and secretly worried about leaving the girls at home. He sat indignantly at supper that evening, his little face red with anger.

"But why, Mum? I already know how to read and write and my numbers. You can teach me anything else!" He argued, knowing that Peggy had been a teacher before she married.

"John, there's so much you're going to learn at school. And you'll meet new people, make some new friends." Peggy replied, as John stabbed a potato on his dish.

"I don't want new friends! And I don't want to learn!" He yelled and shoved back from the table, stomping outside to the stoop.

Peggy looked at Tommy and he nodded, leaving his own supper on the table as he made his way outside to talk to John. From a young age, Tommy had a very persuasive, authoritative personality, especially when it came to John and Ada. Peggy relied upon him to do what their father wasn't usually around to take care of. Tommy preferred to take on the role, knowing how ruthless his father had been on him, and Arthur, in particular.

"Alright then, John boy?" Tommy said, taking a seat next to John on the front step.

"I don't want to go, Tommy, what else will I learn? I want to be where I'm needed." John replied, and Tommy felt like he was talking to a 50 year old man in a 6 year old's body.

"Its important for you to go to school. Arthur and I went, and when they are old enough, so will Ada and Martha. You'll learn things that you'll need when you're a man, all sorts of things, like maps and how to do big numbers and write impressive words."

"Can't I wait until the girls are ready? And then we can all go together?" John asked quietly.

Tommy realized that John didn't want to leave Martha behind, less so Ada, but he knew John took his job of looking after the girls seriously. In the time Martha had been living on the block, she spent more time at their house than her aunt's, and they all doted on her, John the most. Tommy thought fate was gypsy foolishness, but seeing Martha and John together made him believe, just a bit.

"You're worried about the girls, then? They'll be at school with you soon enough, so you'll have to learn how everything works so you can tell them when they are ready to go, too. You make sure they take care of each other while you're away, and when you come home it'll be just like normal. Next year the three of you will have the same routine, and you'll have to make sure they get there and home safely. It'll be ok, John, the girls will be alright, promise you."

John sighed and nodded as he threw a pebble into the street, resigned to his fate of attending school. Tommy laughed and drew John against his side, rubbing his head affectionately.

"Now, Mum tells me that you're going to have Mrs. Changretta as your teacher. I had her and so did Arthur, make sure you listen to her and be a good boy, eh? We respect ladies in this house, don't we?" Tommy said and John nodded his head in agreement.

* * *

A few months into the school year, John walked home on a rainy Thursday, hoping his mum would have some biscuits for him when he got there. He turned onto his block and saw his front door in the distance, Ada sitting there alone. He picked up the pace, wondering where Martha was. The night before the first day of school, he had sternly told the girls that they were to watch out for each other when he wasn't around and they had all agreed that the girls would meet him at the front door each day. This was the first time he hadn't seen the both of them together, waiting for him, and he worried that something had happened.

"Ada, where's Martha?" He asked, looking hurriedly through the front door.

"Mum said to go straight to the kitchen when you got home, Martha's been crying all day. I tried to make her happy but she just kept crying. I'm sorry John." Ada replied glumly, feeling guilty.

"It's alright, Ada. Go on in then, I'll talk to Mum and then see to Martha." He responded, gently pushing Ada through the front door and closing it behind him.

Peggy was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for their supper, and smiled tiredly as John speed walked into the room.

"She's under the stairs, love. I think she misses her Mummy but she won't come out from under there. See if you can make her feel better. Here's some biscuits, too, she didn't eat anything after breakfast."

John took the plate of biscuits from his mum and went back out into the front hall. There was a small storage space under the stairs, and he had long ago claimed it as his own. He got down on his knees and peered underneath the staircase, finding Martha with her arms around her knees and her head down.

"Ok if I come in, Mar? Its just me." He said softly and waited for her head to nod yes before going any further.

He turned himself around and sat next to her, their backs against the wall, and he reached out to take her hand in his. She looked up at him, eyes red and puffy from crying, and he had never felt so sad.

"Why are you crying? Are you hurt?"

"I miss my mummy and my brother." Martha replied, hiccuping around the words.

"I didn't know you had a brother. What's his name?"

"Eamon. He's with my Mummy in Heaven. I wish I could see them." She whispered and squeezed John's hand tightly.

"I have brothers in Heaven, too. William and and Charlie. I don't remember them, they went to Heaven before I was born." John replied.

William had died at birth, and was a few years younger than Arthur. Charlie had lived until he was two and passed away suddenly one night. John was born five years later, and had always heard about the two brothers he'd never met. Charlie had been very close to Tommy and John had overheard their mum saying Tommy was never the same after Charlie had passed.

"I'm sorry that your mummy and your brother are in Heaven, Mar. My mum always says that William and Charlie are looking down on us, protecting us, and I bet your mummy and Eamon are too."

"You'll never leave me, right, Johnny?" Martha asked and John shook his head quickly.

"Course not. Its my job to look after you." John said reassuringly and Martha smiled faintly at him.

"Do you think your brothers have met mine and my mummy?"

"Well of course they have, we are all on the same street. Your mummy is probably looking after my brothers like we are looking after you. Lets think of them together in the same house, ok? And when you get sad, you can come under here and think about them playing and having fun together."

Martha nodded and picked up a biscuit of the plate that John had put in front of her. They sat in silence for awhile, munching on the biscuits. John thought of the brothers he would never meet and he wondered if they really were with Martha's family now. He hoped they were.

"Johnny, is your daddy in Heaven?" Martha asked innocently.

"No, he's in Ireland. He comes back sometimes, but I wish he wouldn't."

John figured it had been over a year since he'd last since his father, Arthur Sr., and he wasn't looking forward to his eventual return. The first memory John had of his father was watching him beat Tommy nearly unconscious before Arthur and Uncle Charlie had pulled him off. John knew his father was a bad man and stayed clear of him as much as possible.

"Is he a mean daddy?"

"Stay away from him, Martha. Promise me that when he's around you'll stay away from him. He's big and scary and he is mean. I'll protect you and Ada, and Tommy and Arthur will protect us. Ok?" John replied, his tone as serious as it could be for a six year old.

Martha nodded and squeezed his hand again before splitting the last biscuit, handing John half. Tommy found them an hour later, Martha's head on John's shoulder, both asleep. He left them that way until supper time, hoping he could protect their childhood as long as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

Halfway through his third school year, an eight year old John waited impatiently at the side door for Ada and Martha, per their standing agreement. The girls sometimes chatted with friends before leaving for the day, but usually no more than 5 or 10 minutes at the most. John looked around the corners of the building but didn't see anyone, and began to worry.

"John! John!" Ada yelled as she came running around the corner.

"What is it? Where's Martha?!" He asked, turning his head nearly around in a circle looking for her.

"I tried to make them stop, but they won't let her go!" Ada replied and pulled his hand as they both went running back in the direction she came from.

"Who, Ada?!" He asked, pumping his arms to pick up speed.

"Mean boys! Older boys!" She responded from him behind him as he caught sight of a scuffle in up the block.

John made a quick pivot around a pram left on the sidewalk and turned sharply to his right, into a vacant lot, used mostly by local homeless men. He found a group of boys, many older than him, taunting Martha, who was on ground, crying and trying to block her face from their kicking feet.

"Think you're so high and mighty, walking around like the queen, but we know where you came from, workhouse rat. You're nothing but a dirty orphan servant girl, with a whore for a mother!" One of the boys said, and pulled his foot back, preparing to kick her again.

Martha cried out and John sprang into action, tackling the taunter from behind, pushing his face in the ground. Two other boys pulled him off, and he felt something snap inside him. He pulled punches with both hands, furiously and accurately, and kicked his legs rapidly, keeping the others away.

"Do you know who I am? Do you know who my brothers are? We're Shelbys and she's with us!" He screamed and landed another punch square in someone's face.

The other boys began to back up in fear. Tommy and Arthur had gotten involved with one of the local gangs the year before and the reputation of the Shelby clan became more intimidating by the day. The rest of the family, by proxy, was protected and John felt the power of using the family name.

"We're sorry, we didn't know she's with the Shelby's. Please, stop." The boy under John said, voice shaking and nose bloody.

John looked around, the other bloody faces moving away from him, Martha crouched on the ground, Ada beside her, both looking in his direction. He'd let the rage inside take over him and even at such a young age, he knew there was a time to stop it. He stood up slowly, and looked at the group of boys standing around him.

"You leave both them girls alone, you all hear me? We're Shelbys and my brothers will hunt you down if you ever touch them again." John threatened and watch as all the boys nodded in agreement and slowly exited the lot.

John walked over to Martha and Ada, both of them shocked at the sight before them. Neither had ever seen John lose his temper like that and they both felt scared but also protected. They knew he would never hurt them, only those that tried to hurt them. John helped Martha stand up and pulled his handkerchief out to wipe her face.

"It's alright, Mar, you're safe now. Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, don't think so. But my dress … " Martha replied and began sobbing again when she looked down at her dirty and torn dress. Her aunt had made it for her a few weeks ago and she had worn it with pride to school several times since.

"Its ok, Martha, Mum will fix it. Right, John?" Ada said hurriedly, wanting Martha to stop crying.

"That's right, let's go home and have Mum look at it. I know she can make it like new."

John put his arm around Martha's shoulder, and she leaned into him, still sniffling, while Ada grabbed her other hand. The three slowly made their way home. John felt the anger start to leave his body and it was replaced with concern for Martha. He pulled her tighter and felt terrible that the boys had called her mother a whore. Living with two much older brothers and always hanging around pubs, John had learned what that word meant long ago. It didn't matter to him if that's what Martha's mother was, but he wanted to find out from his own if it was true.

They opened the front door and John stopped short, the girls bumping against him in the doorway. He heard the voice from the kitchen and shuddered, his biggest fear coming true. His father was home and John wanted to run, far away, taking the girls with him.

"Ada, listen to me. Da's home. Take Martha upstairs - " John whispered but was cut off by the booming of Arthur Sr.'s footsteps coming into the room.

"John, Ada. Come say hello to your father." He commanded and Ada looked at John, terrified, before they both moved forward and stiffly accepted his hug.

Martha hung back towards the door, briefly debated running out, but she had never seen John look so pale. She remembered what he said under the stairs, about his dad being a bad man. John was her best friend, Ada like a sister, so she would be brave and not leave them here.

"And who is this wretched waif? What have I said about bringing home the trash?" Arthur Sr. said as he caught sight of Martha's dirty dress and tear stained face.

"This is Martha and she's our friend. She's here more than you, anyways." John retorted, surprising himself with the strong tone of his voice, no shaking or squeaking.

"Is that so? Peg, get in here!"

Peggy hurried into the front room, her eyes widening at the sight of Martha. Disregarding her husband completely, she rushed to Martha's side and pushed her dirtied hair out of her face.

"Martha, love, what happened? Are you hurt anywhere?" Peggy asked as she checked Martha over for any unseen wounds.

"She got attacked by some older boys at school, but John stopped them." Ada interjected, proudly.

"But why, John? What did they say?"

John wanted to ask him mum if it was true that Martha's mum was that terrible word, but he also knew he'd get slapped for saying it. He resolved to ask Tommy later that night, and decided to play dumb on the incident for now.

"They were just being nasty, Mum. I told them who we were and they stopped, went away. Next time I'll watch the girls more closely, I'm sorry."

"I think you did more than just tell them who we were, John, by the look of you, but I'm proud of you for protecting the girls. You did a good job, son. Now, let's get the three of you cleaned up."

Peggy herded the kids towards the stairs, blatantly ignoring her husband, who stood there, looking surprised and angry.

"We're not here to feed the neighborhood riff raff, Peg, I don't want my money wasted on other people's mistakes." Arthur Sr. said, grabbing Peggy's arm.

"She's not someone else's "mistake" Arthur, and frankly John was right, she's here more than you. She's family. And what money of yours is being spent to feed anyone in this house? I haven't seen one cent from you in over a year. Your money? Big laugh, that is. Let go of me, the kids need to clean up for dinner."

* * *

Later, around the table, Tommy sat tensely with Arthur next to him, who was chattering incessantly to their father. Tommy rolled his eyes and passed the bowl of potatoes to the younger kids, who sat across from him. He didn't like that his father had sat at the head of the table, near John, and John clearly didn't like it either. His mother had whispered quickly to him what had happened earlier with Martha, and Tommy knew the subject hadn't been tabled yet.

"Don't give that little runt more of our food, Tom, she ain't ours." Arthur Sr. said around a mouthful of bread. Peggy began to say the Hail Mary as she saw Tommy's jaw clench with anger.

Before he could do anything, Arthur Sr. grunted in pain, as John kicked him hard in the shin. He grabbed the dull butter knife from the plate in front of him, and pointed it towards his father, hand steady, eyes sure.

"What are you going to do, little man? Stab me?" Arthur Sr. asked, his pain turning to laughter.

There was a split second that Tommy could've grabbed the knife, but he didn't, and instead watched as John quickly brought it straight down into his father's thigh.

"Don't talk like that about Martha, you dirty old bastard! Go back to Ireland, we don't want you here!" John screamed.

Tommy jumped up and ran around the table, grabbing his father's hand just before it reached John's face. Arthur grabbed the girls and John stood in front of his father, knife still in hand. Tommy wrenched his father's arm back, and smiled as the man shrieked in pain.

"Don't you touch him or the girls, you hear me? That girl is our family now, and we'll do anything to protect her. You've done nothing but been a drain on this family for years, just go back to where you came from. We don't need you and we definitely don't want you." Tommy growled in his father's ear.

Arthur Sr. finally relaxed in the chair and Tommy let go of his arm, stepping between him and John. He slowly took the knife out of John's hand and placed it on the table. John looked at him, and once again Tommy felt like he was looking at an old man in a young boy's body. The pure hatred shining in John's eyes made whatever feelings he had for their father clear.

"Its alright, John. Come here to me now." Tommy said softly. He watched the old man recede from John's eyes and the eight year old come back to the surface. Tommy picked him up and John wrapped his arms around his older brother's neck, refusing to let his father see him cry.

Late that night, John lay in bed, thinking about what happened. All he knew, and all he had been told to do, was to protect the family, protect Ada and Martha. Always. And he had. He still wondered about Martha's mum, and after a moment of listening to the quiet house, he snuck out of his room and up the stairs to the small attic room that was Tommy's.

"Tommy? You awake?" He whispered from the doorway, his feet cold on the wooden floor.

"Aye. Everything alright?" Tommy whispered back, and made room for John to hop up into the bed beside him.

"I need to ask you something. Those boys earlier, they said that Martha's mum was a whore. Is that true?"

"It is true, John. But that doesn't mean she was a bad mummy. She was alone with Martha and needed money. Sometimes good people have to do bad things. Do you understand that?" Tommy said after a moment.

"Like what happened tonight?" John asked, suddenly afraid that what he had done made him a bad person.

"Listen to me, John. You are a good boy, ok? You look after the little ones, you help Mum, and Arthur and me when we need you. Da isn't a good person. Good people sometimes have to do bad things to make something right. Bad people do bad things just because they want to hurt someone. Does the truth about Martha's mum change how you feel about Martha?"

"No. She's still Martha." John replied.

"That's right. And if Mrs. Connelly were still alive, how would you treat her?"

"Like a lady, because she's Martha's mum."

"That's the right answer. Mrs. Connelly was a good person who did a bad thing to take care of Martha."

John nodded and laid down next to Tommy, not wanting to be alone. He still felt scared of his father, who was likely tucked up in a pub at the moment, and he also felt scared of what he done to his father.

"Listen, John boy. Whenever Da is around, don't leave Martha alone with him."

"Do you think he'll hurt her?"

"I hope not, but I don't know. Just keep her safe, ok? And when I'm around, I'll keep everyone safe." Tommy said, throwing his arm over John and hugging him.

John felt asleep shortly after, in the safe embrace of his brother, but Tommy was wide awake for hours after. John's act with the knife earlier had scared him as well. Everyone knew how close John and Martha were, and he hoped that his father wouldn't try to take out some kind of revenge, using Martha to do it. Tommy would have to put some extra eyes on his father, use some of the boys from the neighborhood to do it.


	4. Chapter 4

Martha's tenth birthday fell during the annual gypsy festival that happened each year on the very edge of Birmingham, in a large, open field. Peggy deemed Martha and Ada old enough to attend that year, and the family wanted to make it a special celebration for Martha's birthday.

Peggy had made both girls new dresses adorned with bits of lace and ribbon from other sewing jobs. The two ran through the Shelby house, screaming with delight as they twirled around and watched the dress layers fly up around them. John worried one of them was going to fall down the stairs and sat halfway up the first flight, ready to block bodies if need be. He was soon entranced by the white whirl that was Martha, her blonde hair flying around her head. She looked down at him and smiled, her eyes piercing through the hair whipping across her forehead.

John had started to realize that he liked Martha far, far more than just a friend. He always knew what he felt for her was different than how he felt about Ada or the rest of his family, but he was getting older, and he'd come to the notion that maybe he liked Martha. Fancied her.

Late the next morning, Martha's birthday, the Shelbys headed out to the gypsy camp, in a borrowed wagon from Uncle Charlie. Tommy held the reins, with Arthur and Peggy next to him. John and the girls sat in the back, potato sacks protecting the white dresses from the dirt of the wagon. John put his hand in his pocket for the tenth time so far, checking to make sure Martha's gift was secure.

John, Martha, and Ada spent most of the afternoon wandering the camp in wonderment, eating strange foods and watching the gypsy children run around barefoot and playing games that seemed to be from a very different world. John leaned against the side of a wagon, chomping on candy, while he watched Martha and Ada from a distance. They were playing with some of the girls from the camp, and he found himself daydreaming again.

"What about the one in white?" John overheard a boy near him say, in Romani.

"Which one?" His friend replied.

"The blonde. She's pretty. We should go over and talk to her." The first boy said.

John began fuming. He knew the two boys had seen him with the girls earlier, and he realized they probably didn't know that he could speak Romani. He felt pure jealousy coursing through him and once again, he knew that when it came to Martha, he was in way deeper than he had thought. He stalked over to the girls quickly, cutting off the two boys who had been talking about Martha.

"Let's go find Mum, she did ask us to check in with her at some point." John said gruffly, grabbing both their hands and pulling them towards the last place he'd seen his mum.

"Is something wrong, Johnny?" Martha asked, and he loosened his grip a bit on both their hands, trying to calm down.

"Nothing, I just didn't like the way those two boys were looking at you both. Come on, nothing to worry about, let's have fun." John replied, and attempted to smile back at her.

The girls nodded and followed his lead, both knowing he probably was lying. But it was John, who had always looked out for them, and they both figured he had his reasons.

That evening, shortly after supper, Martha and John sat under a large tree, separated a little bit from the rest of the family. John wanted to give her the birthday gift in his pocket, and he felt overcome with shyness, which usually wasn't a problem for him. He had laid down a small blanket under the tree, so Martha wouldn't have to sit on the dirt, and they both sat next to each other for awhile, enjoying the setting sun and peaceful air.

"Happy Birthday, Mar." John said quietly, pulling the small package out of his pocket and handing it to her.

Her eyes lit up and he smiled at her reaction, waiting nervously as she opened it.

"Johnny, I love it!" She exclaimed, pulling out the bracelet he had made her with a piece of leather string and some beads he'd come across in an old trunk of his mother's.

"Its nothing fancy, but I thought you might like it." John replied humbly.

"I love it, really. Can you tie it on for me?" Martha said, holding out her wrist.

John tied the leather string around her small wrist, his fingers slightly trembling. It pleased him to see his handiwork on her arm and it pleased him immensely that she liked it. Once he was done, Martha threw her arms around his neck, and he hugged her back, tightly. Whatever happened in this life, he knew that if Martha was beside him, everything would be alright.

* * *

A few weeks later, John came down with a fever and was laid up in bed for nearly a week. Peggy spent day and night at his side, sending Tommy for whatever she needed. Ada and Martha had been banned from the room, in fear that they would get it as well.

After supper on the second night, Martha sat outside the doorway, listening to John mumble to himself in a daze. Peggy had fallen asleep in the chair next to the window, and Martha crept in. She stood close to the bed and looked down worriedly at John's face. He was pale and sweaty, his arm flung out from the blanket, and his eyes moving rapidly underneath the lids.

"Johnny?" She whispered, not wanting to wake Peggy and be scolded.

He said something she didn't understand and rolled towards her, his arm partially off the bed. She took his hand in hers, something she had taken for granted for six years, and was hit with the sudden fear that he wouldn't make it through the illness.

"Johnny, please get better. You can't leave me here without you. We're supposed to get married, everyone says it. I love you, Johnny. Stay, please stay." Martha pleaded with him quietly, her tears dripping down her face.

John squeezed her hand and said her name, before falling back into a quiet sleep. Martha stood there for what seemed like forever, watching his face relax. She heard a sound behind her and whipped her head towards the door, finding Tommy standing there.

"You're not supposed to be in here, little one." He said, holding out his hand to her.

She looked down at Johnny one more time, squeezed his hand, and let go, tucking his arm gently back under the blanket. Tommy took her hand and slowly closed the door, before leading her downstairs.

"He's gonna be alright, Martha. He's a strong one, and I know he won't leave you and Ada here to fend for yourselves." Tommy said, trying to lighten the situation a bit.

Martha burst into tears again and Tommy took her into his arms, sitting on a kitchen chair. He rocked her slowly back and forth as she cried and buried her head into his chest.

"I don't want him to die!" She wailed, and cried even harder.

"He's not going to die, love, I can promise you. He's quite sick, yes, but he's not going to die. Listen to me, Martha, he will never leave you. I swear it." Tommy said sternly, lifting Martha's head up so he could look in her eyes.

She finally nodded and Tommy held her until she fell asleep. _Get better soon, Johnny Boy,_ he thought, _Martha needs you, we all do_.


End file.
